


It Never Takes Too Long

by angel_with_a_scythe



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_with_a_scythe/pseuds/angel_with_a_scythe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>boybootywonder Requested: <br/>Since Jason missed out on his prom due to you know..dying and stuff Bruce makes it up to him by decorating the living room in the Manor like a prom and wearing a suit and slow dancing with Jason</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Never Takes Too Long

**Title:**   _It Never Takes Too Long_  
 **Word Count:** 1,906  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Bruce/Jason, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth  
 **Rating/Warnings:** PG, Kinda fluffy(wait what), kinda angsty.  
 **Notes/Summary:**  Reposted from my [TUMBLR](bruce-and-jason.tumblr.com). Request. I hope you enjoy this little piece. I'm glad it was requested, because I never would have thought of this! It was really fun! The song used is “Gravity” By Sara Bareilles.

~

He must have read this newspaper a thousand times, dissecting each tiny black letter on the smooth, grey paper over and over. By now, his eyes were tired, his mind was drained of its power, and he stared unfocused at the blur of the lines as a cup of coffee grew cold next to him. There was so much on his mind, and yet nothing at all. His body was physically exhausted, healing bruises and cuts and a cracked rib so soon after just having healed other damages. He had reached a moment where he could do nothing but dwell in his own mind. There was no training that could distract him now, no crooks that dared crawl on the streets during broad daylight that the police couldn’t handle, no tasks at work that needed tending. He was stuck.

“Master Bruce…”

One of the most frightening places he’d ever been was his own mind. It was so creative and photogenic by now that he could make up or recall any situation he could or had already been in. This morning, it had chosen to relive one of the worst days of his life.

“Master Bruce?”

His eyes felt like dry sand paper when he blinked them and forced himself to look up at Alfred. They stung as he inhaled deeply, like he had forgotten to breathe for far too long.

“I took everything from him…”

Alfred gaped at him, taken aback momentarily by the sudden melancholy words. He knew exactly who he was talking about. It wasn’t hard to figure out. The butler slowly smiled and set a gentle, comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“But you have the rest of your life to give it all back.”

Bruce stared at him. The butler gave him a soft pat on the shoulder and one last smile before he left the man to finish his other work, leaving Bruce alone again to his daunting mind. The words echoed in his thoughts and made his stomach lurch with anxiety. How could he ever give enough to that boy to make up for all that he had done? And where would he even start?

~~

“You know, Master Bruce… this wasn’t exactly what I meant when I said you could ‘give it all back,’” Alfred said from atop a very tall ladder, voice echoing through the high ceiling of the living room. He pressed the tape firmly in place, sliding his thumb over it with force, back and forth, to ensure that it would not come off. As expected, he received no answer from the man pacing around below. He had to admit, however, that this idea was something he had _not_ expected, and it was rather endearing. Though, knowing Jason Todd as he did now, he wasn’t sure this was the most fitting idea for Bruce to start with, albeit a rather cute one.

Alfred had noticed such a change in Bruce since Jason’s return. Even though some of it was bad, a lot of those changes were good. He’d seen a genuine smile from his employer on more than one occasion lately, tiny and private as they were, like the man had gotten a second wind of hope.

He descended the steps of the ladder carefully and, once on the ground, looked up to admire his handiwork. The entire living room was decorated in streamers and balloons, fancy lights and shimmering confetti sprinkled on the table. The whole area had been cleared out to make way for a dance floor surrounded by speakers and even a disco ball hung at the center from the ceiling. He had advised Bruce not to use one since they were outdated, and not to mention they had lights that could replicate the effects of one these days, but the man had vehemently insisted that they needed one to make it as accurate as possible for the time period.

Now all they needed was Jason. His master had assured him that he had a plan to bring the boy to the Manor, but Alfred had yet to hear it

“Drinks and food,” Bruce reminded, as if Alfred could forget. He nodded.

“Pardon me, sir, but how do you know he will even show up?”

Bruce turned to him, his face incredibly serious but a light in his eyes that the butler hadn’t seen in years.

“Jason can never resist crashing a party.”

~~

The night air was crisp and cool, brushing over his skin like a sinful promise. Up on the top of the hill where Wayne Manor stood, the sky was dark, freckled with stars and the bright orb of the moon was casting its eerie glow down onto the gardens that littered the property. So Bruce Wayne thought he could have a party under the radar, did he? There was no piece of information that Jason wasn’t privy to.

So when he crept in through a window on the first floor and heard no music or people, or any noise at all, alarms started going off in his head. Had Bruce changed the location of the party, knowing from past experience that Jason would sneak in? The weight of his foot sent a floorboard creaking, the sound deafening in the complete silence and darkness of the house, but he pushed forward, pressing his back flush against the wall as he crept towards the living room. He finally saw moving lights at the end of the hall and heard music the closer he got towards the large living room. This was something he hadn’t seen before in this house. The music was slow but he still couldn’t hear any voices. Maybe it hadn’t started?

Jason’s feet hesitated as he reached the opening of the living room which, frankly, looked nothing like the living room he remembered. It was decorated as a dance floor, vibrant lights moving all around, an elaborate spread of food and drink on tables with clear plastic cups and paper plates. He wrinkled his nose as his body took over and led him inside, completely thrown off-guard by the empty, foreign place, and made a beeline straight towards the provisions. Sparkling confetti caught his eye, a hand snaking out to poke at it and pinch it between his fingers for closer examination. This was… weird.

Was Damian getting some sort of promotion from kindergarten or something? He fingered at the plastic shards and frowned, shaking his hand of the flecks while reaching with his other towards the strawberries. Bruce wouldn’t mind a few missing pieces of fruit. Not that he’d notice anyways.

The bits landed on a piece of paper and Jason followed them with his eyes, doing a double take when he realized his name was printed in a delicate script on the envelope. The strawberry froze inches from his lips, his whole body going rigid as the alarm in his head became a wailing siren that sent his heart pounding. What the hell was this? He dropped the fruit, completely forgotten, in favor of gathering the envelope in his hands, tearing at the seal flap to yank a card from its papery penitentiary.

“You’re invited…” He opened it. But there was nothing inside. “Tsk. What the hell…” Was this… disappointment? He crumpled the card in his hand and threw it at the table. He was confused as hell, that’s for sure, and he was _angry_. Very angry. It was time to leave this stupid place. Forget the party. Forget Bruce. Forget everything.

He whirled around, ready to go back the way he came, but he couldn’t. Every muscle in his body seized and grounded him to the floor as if he’d stepped in drying cement. He swallowed as his eyes fixated on the tall, broad figure of Bruce standing in front of him looking like he stepped out of a magazine; his perfectly tailored tux hugged all the right curves of his body and a single rose was nestled between gloved fingers.

“What the hell are you doing?” His defenses were up, his hyperactive mind begging him to flee as Bruce stepped towards him, closing the distance between them with a painful slowness. The music slowly changed and piano notes began to invade him, each tone igniting a deep, burning pang in his chest, his pulse racing as Bruce seemed to tower over him and stare him down.

“Can I have this dance?”

Jason did his best to keep his face impassive, making a noise of disapproval. “I’m not going to dance.”

_Something always brings me back to you._

Bruce ignored his rejection, gently setting the rose onto the table behind Jason and reaching out to grab Jason’s hand and pull him onto the dance floor. He struggled half-heartedly, yanking at his wrist in the iron grip and hissing angrily as his frustration skyrocketed in a matter of seconds. “You think this is _nice_ , old man?”

_It never takes too long._

He continued to struggle, bracing his hands against Bruce’s chest and giving a hard shove. The millionaire winced, and Jason felt a snap beneath his palms, making him go completely still as Bruce’s breathing betrayed the intense amount of concentration he was using to keep his face stoic, pulling Jason into his arms. The boy was pliable in his state of shock, no doubt discerning that the rib he’d just broken was the result of a previous fracture incurred in some battle.

_No matter what I say or do._

“No wonder you look like hell,” Jason muttered, driving to insult his former mentor, but Bruce smiled instead, hearing the surrender in his tone. They moved slowly together, one step at a time, but the boy refused to look him in the eye. Their cheeks pressed together, a gentle squeeze of their hands making the former Robin flinch at the foreign show of affection.

_I still feel you here ‘til the moment I’m gone._

“You’re a horrible dancer.” That was a complete lie, but he was grasping for straws at this point, unable to keep himself from vocalizing in his discomforted state.

 _You hold me without touch_.

“Am I?” The amusement in Bruce’s tone only made Jason glare by reflex at nothing in particular. This felt so strange and so… unlike them.

_You keep me without chains._

His control over himself was slipping. All of his resistance was futile, eyes fluttering shut as his body gave in to Bruce’s pull and for that moment, he felt like they could be normal.

_I never wanted anything so much._

He trusted this man, and yet at the same time he didn’t trust him at all, but his body relaxed, the roar in his mind quieted, and he let the music move them.

“This is so stupid…” He mumbled, or slurred rather, and he could have sworn he heard a chuckle from his partner… but that was an impossible notion, and he knew that. And yet, this whole night seemed impossible to him. Everything was so surreal, a blur of lights and music shrouding his senses, but moving unfeasibly slow. The heat between them seemed to wrap around him like a security blanket. He hated this, and nevertheless he enjoyed every moment of it as well, pressed against a strong body, interlocked, pulses thumping together.

Just for one night, they could be what they weren’t.

Just for one night, he could let himself pretend that everything would be alright.

And in the morning, they’d continue to hunt each other.


End file.
